Poison Inside My Veins
by Servatia
Summary: Wrench has a past. Marcus always knew that. For two years, he had let Wrench keep the secrets he couldn't speak about. Until they catch up and threaten everything Wrench has become.
1. Nothing Good Left of You

_((This is almost a one-shot. Planned through in an instant and written in two sittings (Chapters 1 through 4 in the first and the rest the next day). Overall title is taken from_ My Demons _by Lacuna Coil. The chapter heading is from the Evanescence song_ Lose Control _.))_

* * *

 _1\. Nothing Good Left of You_

Sitara was howling with laughter. A smile tugged on Marcus's lips even though his attention should be elsewhere. Hers, too. 'Nothing. No sign of them.' Josh's voice came over their channel, sounding to all the world as if nothing was going on. 'Did Wrench find anything?'

'He isn't back yet,' Marcus answered. 'Building's a bit more complex than we thought, he wants to look thoroughly, he'll be a while.'

Sitara was wiping tears of laughter from her face and Marcus looked at the stage at the front of the room. The slender drag queen had just taken off her wig and was shaking it into the face of someone at the front. They had meant to be here for the show, he, Wrench, and Sitara. They hadn't intended to be on the lookout, however. Then somehow Wrench had found out that the Sons of Ragnarok planned to mess with the performance. He had no idea in what manner, only that something would happen. How he came by that knowledge Marcus couldn't begin to guess, and the suggestion that a threat to a public event would be a matter for the police had only led to protests from him, too. So here they were, on alert. Marcus on the phone with Josh, Sitara watching the crowd for anyone acting oddly while occasionally adding to their conversation, and Wrench scouring the building.

'Marcus! I managed to hack into one of their computers. They left us a message.'

'What?'

'It says: "We know you are looking. You were betrayed. We will find you."'

Marcus stood abruptly. Sitara, suddenly pale, did the same. 'Josh, I'd like you to …'

'Way ahead of you. Wrench's phone is still where it was five minutes ago. Sending you the location.'

'Thanks.' Marcus followed the ping down a flight of stairs, taking three at a time. Sitara was following equally fast. He almost missed the device. It was up on top of a condom machine.

Sitara's eyes were wide. 'I can't see Wrench forgetting his phone on that.'

'No.' He had a couple of reasons why. Wrench being allergic to latex, so he had no business using that thing, was only one of them, but he didn't say that. 'Shit, Sitara. I know how this looks, but I refuse to believe …'

'Me too.' She shook herself like someone trying to get rid of a very annoying insect. 'Josh, do you have any other way to track him?'

'No.'

Marcus swore soundly and Sitara placed a hand on his shoulder. 'He'll be all right.'

'There is a chance that he …'

'No,' Marcus and Sitara barked at the same time.

'Look, Josh,' the young woman said, 'Wrench wouldn't do that.'

'Then perhaps that is what they want us to think. They want us to abandon him.'

'More likely. And not good.' Marcus fixed his gaze on Sitara. 'I have to find him. If anything happens to him …' He couldn't do this again. Horatio had died under his hands, if this happened with Wrench … No. They would find him. They would find him in time.

Ϡ

Wrench opened his eyes with a groan. He slapped the back of his right hand against his forehead and tried to will the pain residing there away. 'Hi there.' The voice burst the peaceful bubble in which he had thought he was just hung over and he scrambled up to a sitting position.

The woman in front of him was short and stocky, her brown hair gelled to obedience. 'Fuck you, Britt, what did you hit me on the head for?'

She shrugged. 'So your so-called friends are going to believe you when we send you back in. At least, that was the plan.'

If she had seen Wrench's face, she would have known that she'd made a mistake. Several, in fact. But it was hidden by his mask, eyes at default. 'So what the hell was all this about? I said I'd make contact.'

'You didn't, though. All you did was fuck over Lenni. Who was working with us.'

'Using you, you mean. Here we thought you'd take it out on her, at least.'

'They think you're a traitor, you know. The rest of our group. I'd be very careful. I still trust you, though.'

Of course she did. Wrench knew why, too. But she wouldn't get what she wanted. He'd never been all that attracted to her, but now everything she stood for was a huge red flag. 'Thanks. So … here's the deal, Britt. There's this guy, Retr0. He's … like, the leader.' Wrong word. Totally. But she'd never understand if he said he was the heart of the DedSec cell. 'We've needed him so far, as you all know if you use your brains. But now I can finally get rid of him.'

'Be quick, Greg. The others are getting nervous. They say we should just kill you.'

'I don't deliver, you do that.' He fought down the urge to break her teeth for calling him Greg. Not her fault, this. 'Now dump me somewhere tied up neatly and have them pick me up.'

Britt made a face and looked away. 'It isn't that simple anymore. You see, Charlie guessed they'd try and hack us. He left them a message, basically telling him that you're a traitor. And I agreed.' She returned her gaze to him. 'You see, Greg, you've been gone a long time and you haven't made contact. Better you do this from a distance. You know them, you can do it. But that was the only way we could risk letting you live. By cutting you off from them. You can't go back.'

'This was all it was about, isn't it? We ran right into your trap. You never planned to disrupt the performance, you just wanted to catch me.'

'Well. If we'd bled a few faggots in the process, I could have lived with it. But in essence, yes.'

Sometimes, Wrench was surprised at himself. Like now. He was calm. All rage and anger had bled out of him at her words, leaving him quiet and settled. 'Ah. Well, I just have to go to my garage real quick, then. Still got the gun there.' The one the Sons of Ragnarok had given him when he'd joined them. It was time to go back for it.


	2. All the Way Down

_((Chapter heading looks innocuous but is still stolen. It comes from_ Swimming Home _by Evanescence.))_

* * *

 _2\. All the Way Down_

Marcus sat with his arms on the table, head resting on them. He was tired. He was so fucking tired, but he couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep while Wrench was God knows where. Josh's voice registered in his head, but the words did not. He was trying to do something, anything, use surveillance cameras of any places the Sons of Ragnarok owned, even to tap into hospitals for some guy that might have been brought in and defied identification. Marcus knew they wouldn't find a thing. Not if these people had even a remote idea what they were doing.

'Why did they target Wrench?' Sitara asked.

Marcus shrugged. 'Why wouldn't they?'

'Because he isn't the most visible of us. That's almost like taking Josh. No offence, Josh.'

'He must have done something. Something they want revenge for.'

'Maybe not.' Sitara rose. 'Look, I know you don't want to hear this …'

'Wrench is _not_ a traitor. I'm not saying that because I love him. I'm saying that because I know him.'

'Marcus. Calm down.' Sitara pulled a chair out from the table and sat astride it, facing Marcus with her arms folded on the backrest. 'When he first joined us, Horatio thought he might be an agent. We figured out after a while that he wasn't. I mean … he did some pretty dangerous shit and one time he almost died. But what if he came out of a gang rather than from the cops? I don't doubt that he's our guy, Marcus. But I wonder what he was before that. He never said to us. If you know more, that's different. But for all I know he might have been with them.'

Marcus shook his head slowly. 'I have no idea. He doesn't like talking about the past.'

'Perhaps he thinks we'd judge him.'

Josh huffed. 'The Sons of Ragnarok are mostly white supremacists and terrorists. Why would we judge that?'

Marcus shook his head. 'It makes no sense. Why would he befriend us of all people if he's like that? We're none of us worth shit to that type.'

'I don't know.' She stood abruptly. 'This isn't going anywhere. Marcus, do you know where he lives?'

'No.'

'Well, I do. I'll look there. Call me if you find out anything. We've got to help him.'

Ϡ

 _Wrench stood on the roof, fixing a small device to it. 'You know, there's more than one way to skin a cat. I'm sure we can do this differently. With less noise.' Horatio's voice on the phone was casual, but Wrench knew him well enough to tell that he was nervous._

 _He grinned to himself. 'Where would be the fun in that?'_

 _'_ _Well, you do you. Drone just above you is mine. Don't shoot it down.'_

 _'_ _Nope. IED's in place … going … now. And make sure …' His foot caught on the gods knew what and Wrench lost his balance. In a few seconds the IED would blow and unless he made a fast escape, he'd be dead. Panicked, he hurled himself forwards. The ground fell away under him, and there was nothing, nothing …_

 _He blinked into the sunlight. Something swam in front of him, some weird shape. 'Do you hear me, man?'_

 _The weird shape had to be Horatio. 'I'm good,' Wrench ground out. 'Fuck. The explosion must have …'_

 _'_ _I stopped it. Drone. You have a death wish or something? You could have died falling off that building.'_

 _'_ _Didn't, though.' Wrench sat gingerly, felt his arms and legs. 'Nothing broken, I guess.'_

 _'_ _You are going to a hospital, my friend.'_

 _'_ _Nah. I'm good.'_

 _'_ _You don't know that, you could be bleeding out from the inside. You need …'_

 _'_ _I said no.'_

 _'_ _Fuck that, man. I'm not risking a friend dying without a fight. I'm going with you, if you want. But this isn't really up for debate.'_

Ϡ

Wrench had spent the time it took him to get to the garage wondering what the hell he'd done to make himself traceable. He knew it, though. He'd made the news when he blasted the Blume servers into oblivion. A camera had caught him, but he hadn't cared. After all, his face wasn't visible. But somehow, that must have reminded them of his existence and what he'd been supposed to do. Get into DedSec. Gain their trust. Get their intel. Wreak havoc among them. Come back. It had been his own idea, no less. He slipped into the garage and closed it behind himself. The gun was where he'd left it, in a drawer under the desk. It was heavy in his hand, a blunt answer to blunt questions. At first, it had been a reminder of where he belonged. Later, that he needed to watch his back.

Making sure he'd closed behind him, he took a deep breath. After a moment of hesitation, Wrench took off his mask and placed it carefully on the table. It had been very useful in hiding from his family, it was intimidating, and it helped him … face people. He thought of Marcus, who had seen his face once; who had asked him once, just once, to take it off when they were making love; who had never pried, never pushed, always taking whatever Wrench was prepared to give without coaxing out more. Taking a deep breath, Wrench cocked the gun and fired at the mask, directly where the chip was sitting. He didn't need it anymore. And he definitely needed to burn this particular bridge.


	3. Far Beneath My Nightmares and Loneliness

_((Chapter heading is a line from the song_ Like You _by Evanescence.))_

* * *

 _3\. Far Beneath My Nightmares and Loneliness_

'Nothing.' Sitara sounded defeated even on the phone. 'I got nothing. It's like no-one even lived here. I mean … Yeah, a bit of stuff, but nothing personal. Like, at all.' She paused briefly. 'I'll swing by his garage, and …'

'No, I'm closer,' Marcus interrupted. 'This is taking too long.' He cut the connection and all but fled from HQ. He got on his motorcycle and drove the short distance like a maniac. Someone shouted after him, but he didn't care. He felt in his gut that he was running out of time.

When he reached the garage, he opened it from a distance and drove directly inside. 'Wrench?' he asked. He didn't expect an answer and he didn't get one. He spun and found the mask on the desk. 'Fuck. Sitara! This is bad.'

'What? What's wrong?'

'Someone must have followed him here. Taken his mask and destroyed it.'

She took a while before she answered. 'And left it in his garage? That makes no sense, Marcus, and I think you know that.' He did. He didn't want to. 'Come home, Marcus.'

'In a bit. I need a moment.' He walked out, feeling lost. He drove into the night without a particular idea where he was going. When his brain had decided to take him to the place where he had returned the dratted mask to Wrench was beyond him, but he followed his own footsteps all the same. This couldn't be. Wrench wouldn't leave them. Wouldn't leave him.

Biting his lips, Marcus made his way up to the roof. The sharp wind was biting his eyes, the cool air making him shiver.

Something moved in his peripheral vision, and Marcus froze. A lone figure, up here, with a gun held loosely by his side. He slowly lifted it up to his forehead, started trembling and put it down again quickly. Marcus swallowed, took the figure in. Startling him was certain to be disastrous. Tall and slender, shoulders slightly slumped and facing away. But unmistakable in every single little movement.

The gun was lifted again, this time in front of the man, and Marcus knew that he had just run out of time. Caution would take too long. 'Don't do that!' Marcus barely recognised his own voice. He covered the remaining distance at a run. He took the gun out of an unresisting hand and shoved down the figure's hood. Resisting the temptation to punch him, Marcus looked at Wrench. 'Don't ever do that,' he said again, taking the pale face into his shaking free hand.

Long, pale fingers covered his. 'What are you doing here?'

'Looking for you! I had no idea where to start, I didn't even think you'd be here, but … Hell, I've got no idea why, but I found your mask and drove and here I am. What the hell, Wrench?'

'Go away, Marcus. Walk away and forget …'

'I'm going to punch you if you don't shut up.'

Wrench's lips tightened. 'Fine. Threaten me with abuse then. Think you're the first?'

The icy tone made it clear that this wasn't a joke. 'I have no idea, you never talk about yourself. I think now's the time.'

'No. Now's the time to decorate this here roof with my brain.'

'Then why didn't you?' Marcus let go of him and took a step away. 'Why did you hesitate?'

'I …' Wrench swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. 'I … shit, Marcus. I've fucked up so bad.'

'Do you want to die, Wrench? Then fucking do it. Knock me out, grab the gun, and kill yourself. Or, perhaps, you could talk to me instead. At least pretend that you trust me or even like me. You've done it before.'

'If you knew, Marcus, if you ever found out what I was, you'd all hate me. And then I'd lose the only family I've ever known in one fell stroke. I can't do that. I can't go back to being worthless to everyone on earth.'

'If we knew what? That you were with the Sons of Ragnarok? Guess what, we've figured it out.' He tapped his forehead. 'We're not completely stupid, you know?'

Wrench flushed so brightly his scar almost became invisible. 'Then why are you here?' he screamed. 'Why did you even look for me?'

'Because we trust you. And we love you.' He lowered his voice. ' _I_ love you, Wrench. But right now I don't know if I even know you. So talk to me. Please.'

The wide blue eyes glistened in the faint light. 'Shit, M. You're making this difficult.'

'Good.' He raised his arms. 'What is this, Wrench? Was Horatio a worthless nigger to you? Am I? Did you just pretend that you care about me?'

The tears broke from Wrench's eyes and he wiped them away furiously. 'No. Fuck, no. Oh gods, Horatio wouldn't be able to stand the sight of me. I never used that word in my life and I'd thank you for not doing it either because it makes me want to break things. Or people.'

'The only one you can break right now is me. If you'd pulled that trigger, you'd have managed. And depending on what you'll say now it's still on the table.'

'That's about the last thing I want. You … you're one beautiful human being.'

'Then what drove you to consort with those racists?'

'I wasn't very selective about who I'd hang with, okay? I didn't even know what sort a lot of them are. I knew someone who was with them and had a way in. I had to hide, and they were there.'

'Who did you hide from, the cops?'

Wrench shook his head. 'My mother.' He turned away again, his hands balled into fists. 'You … have a family, Marcus. People who loved you, cared about you from the day you were there. I was a burden. When I turned out to be a difficult kid, it got worse. At worst, I got beaten, at best ignored. And then … my father died. And my mother … well. You can't imagine how this is, but she hated me. He just didn't love me enough to bother protecting me, but there's still a mile of a difference. She'd tortured me from when I was little. Giving me rotten food, forcing me to eat it again if I threw up, putting out cigarettes on my skin … But when he was dead … well. I got this.' He indicated his scar. 'I still think she'd have killed me if I had stayed. I was 14 years old and had nowhere to go. One guy who'd been in my school was with the Sons of Ragnarok. He offered a community and that I'd learn something – and I did, Marcus, they taught me all I know – and that I'd be safe. I couldn't say no.'

'And their views? You don't share them? You were pretty young when you joined.'

'I am not a Nazi, Marcus, not even close. I never was, hated everyone equally. I understand if you don't believe me, though.'

'I believe you. I remember how you reacted when it turned out Lenni was collaborating with them, and I refuse to believe that you were acting.' He opened his arms. 'Come here?'

'Why?'

Marcus shook his head. 'Because I really want to hold you, Wrench.' He frowned. 'And I got a feeling you need it as much as I do.'

After only a moment of hesitation, Wrench let him put his arms around him. He stood stiffly at first, then slowly melted into his embrace, bringing his own arms around Marcus in turn. He hid his face in the crook of his neck and a tremor ran through the lean form. 'I'm not worth it, Marcus.'

He only held him tighter. 'You're coming back with me, Wrench. I'd prefer if you left me that gun. I'm not sure I trust you around anything you can use to harm yourself with right now.'

A quiet chuckle rippled through Wrench. He extracted himself form Marcus's hold and kissed him softly. 'Keep it, I don't want anything to do with it. You were right. I don't want to die. And it seems that you at least don't think I'm a lost cause. The others, though …'

'Well. Up until the moment that I found your mask, we were all sure you'd been kidnapped. But, Wrench, you said it yourself. You're one of us, we're your family. We'll tell them what happened. You have to, now, you can't keep it to yourself. But if I know them at all, it won't change who you are to them. And I'm dead sure it wouldn't have changed a thing for Horatio, either. Not after all this time. You're a fucking mess, Wrench, but you're our mess and we've got your back.'

Ϡ

Wrench felt naked as he walked into the hackerspace in Marcus's wake. He'd never gone there without his mask. Destroying it had been the first step of his suicide. There was no going back from that, he had thought, and now here he was. Naked. Frightened. Weak.

The chime from the lock and his own mark on the wall were jarring, mocking him with the traces he'd left of himself. He hesitated, but Marcus didn't let him, guided him inside and went downstairs ahead of him. 'Hi,' he said. 'Look what I found.' Sitara and Josh both came around the corner and stared at Wrench.

'Hi, Wrench,' was all Josh had to say, but there was a small shift in his expression, a small shift towards something that looked like triumph. Another might have nudged Sitara and said, 'Told you.'

The woman, on the other hand, overcame her stunned disbelief quickly. She raced towards them and hugged Wrench fiercely. Then she let him go and punched his shoulder. Hard. 'You son of a bitch. You scared us! Do you need help? Do you need to shake them off?'

He swallowed and nodded jerkily. 'Yes. I think so. There are a few … they expect me to take you over. And kill you in the process. All of you, I guess, but mostly Josh and Marcus. I'm not going to let them anywhere near you and they aren't the forgiving sort. So I'll have to kill them first.'

Sitara sighed. 'Yep. That's how I thought this talk would go. Are you all right, Wrench?'

'Is that even relevant?'

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Is that _relevant_? Fuck you, Wrench. I'm thrilled that you're back. Can't you see that?' He smiled. He didn't mean to, but there was no way he could stop himself. Sitara punched him again, but much more gently. 'One thing though. I want the truth, Wrench. All of it. I want to know who you are. Can you do that for us?'

He felt Marcus squeeze his hand, telling him he wasn't alone. He squeezed back. 'Yeah. You're my family. You got a right to know.'


	4. Close My Eyes and Start Swimming

_((Chapter heading is a line from the song_ Start swimming _by Delain.))_

* * *

 _4\. Close My Eyes and Start Swimming_

Wrench couldn't sleep. He hadn't wanted to be alone that night and had gladly accepted Marcus's offer to come home with him. For the first time. But even so he didn't find peace. His mind kept going back to the rooftop, to the gun against his temple, to the muzzle in his mouth and finally, finally the determination to pull the trigger … and then Marcus's voice. He'd thought it was a dream, his mind trying to get in the way of his escape, but then Marcus was there and now … now Wrench was still breathing, alive … and he kept thinking of what would have happened if Marcus had taken only a minute longer. 'What a waste,' he said quietly.

'Huh?' Marcus stirred beside him, turned to face him and placed a hand on his chest. 'You okay?'

He sighed. 'Yes. Just a bit horrified at the thought that you might have been too late.'

The hand on his chest wandered until Marcus's entire arm was around him, holding him tight. 'I honestly don't know how I'd have survived that. The thought just what I'd have found … God, Wrench.'

'Don't worry. It's not going to happen. If I learned anything today it's that doing something irreversible has serious drawbacks. And that I didn't give any of you near enough credit.'

'So … how are you dealing with … well, not having the mask?'

'Better than I thought.' He turned to his side, facing the man next to him. 'In a way, today was cathartic. I've left a lot of baggage behind me. I got the confirmation that I matter to you lot. Not just the persona that I have created out of the ashes, but me. The real me.'

Soft fingertips ghosted over his cheek. 'So … do you want us to call you Reginald? Or Reggie?'

'No.' He caught the hand and brought it to his lips. 'Wrench is a name I chose for myself. Something of my own. Does that make sense?'

'Yeah. If one is you.'

'Yeah. Kick me when I'm down.'

Marcus heard the levity in his tone, but somehow, fuelled by the way Wrench had reacted to his feeble threat earlier, the words made him ache. 'I'd never hurt you. You know that, don't you?'

Wrench clicked his tongue and leaned in, brushing his lips over Marcus's. 'I do.' He buried his face in his neck, inhaling his scent. 'I … I love you, Marcus. I've never told you, and today I thought I wouldn't get the chance.'

'I knew it, Wrench. You showed me. Every damn moment. This is new, me seeing you, you actually spending the night … but I knew that I just had to wait and one day, one day, you'd open up. And it was so worth it.'

Wrench had no answer. Instead, he kissed Marcus again, gently, without the leather getting in the way. A soft tongue teased against his lips, and he let it in willingly. Marcus pulled away a little. 'I got no latex free condoms here. I left the last ones with you.'

'Well.' Wrench lay on his back, one arm behind his neck. 'We have several options here.' He stretched the free arm straight up into the air with the thumb extended. 'One, we use other means. You're quite skilled with your mouth, and judging from the way you sound when I suck you, so am I. Or two,' he extended his forefinger, 'we go to sleep. Which is probably the wisest choice. I should at least, you know, try. Sun's going to rise and we still need to come up with a plan. I plan better when I don't nod off.' He let his arm fall and turned his head to the side to look at Marcus again. 'Three … and if that is generally not your thing that's perfectly all right and I'm not mad or hurt or offended or anything, but I just want to throw it out there … three, we ditch 'em. We both know we're clean, and … thing is Marcus, I trust you with my life. Hell, you just _saved_ my life. You wouldn't risk anything. But I get if you absolutely don't do that.'

'The latex free condoms are kind of pricy,' Marcus said quietly. 'Haven't done that so far, though.'

'Well … there was that one time …' Wrench pressed his lips together to hide a grin.

'That one time your passion was a bit too much for the poor, unsuspecting condom?'

'I swear I didn't even notice that it broke. I was way too far gone and you felt so good.'

Marcus smiled at him. 'And I didn't panic all that much, as you may recall, once you told me that you actually knew you were clean.'

'Well, confusing a sudden allergic reaction with an STI kind of leads to that knowledge.' He made a face. 'Anyway. Focus, Marcus. There's still option four.'

'Now I'm curious. And a bit scared.'

'Option four: I get up and fetch them from my jacket. I kind of keep them on me. In case.'

Marcus laughed, and it warmed every fibre in Wrench's being. He sat up but was held back. 'Get them if you prefer. If you want to ditch them, I'm … not going to protest.'

'Oh? I expected you to stick to safe and clean.'

'Yeah. So I'd have, a while ago. But this, between us, this is … You mean the world to me, Wrench, and I honestly … I can't imagine this ever changing. I hope it won't for you either. I'm in it for the long haul, and I'm not a cheater. Neither are you, you say, and I trust you. I also think we're honest enough with each other to come clean if something should happen. Especially if our health's at stake.'

'That's a must, either way.' Wrench smirked. 'So, this mean we're engaged now?'

'Only if you want it to.'

'Do I ever.' A vertical crease formed between Wrench's brows. 'Take a good look at me, Marcus. This the face you want to see every day?'

'You got no idea.' He pulled Wrench on top of him and placed his hands on his sides. 'I don't know what you see in the mirror, but I see … I see a handsome guy. I see the most beautiful blue eyes. I see that small smile tugging on your lips, like, right now. I see a gentle expression, one that is completely at odds with what you pretend to be sometimes. I see … I see the love of my life, Wrench. A man with a scar that tells a story of pain and survival.' The warm hands wandered down to the waistband of his briefs, and Wrench assisted gladly in getting rid of them. Marcus ditched his own and he straddled him, their cocks pressing into each other. Both were already hard, and Wrench had a feeling that he wouldn't last long. The world looked different without the mask. Softer. Warmer. And astoundingly safe, at least right now, right here, with this man so close to him.

A finger pressed against his entrance, and he closed his eyes, pushed back and moaned. 'Fuck me, Marcus,' he said. 'I want it so bad.'

'Yeah. You gotta get off me for a bit. Or can you reach the drawer with those long arms of yours?'

Wrench leaned over, collapsing on top of Marcus. He felt him laughing under him and reached out, making a pained sound. His fingertip got a hold on the handle and somehow he opened it. He did that so enthusiastically that the drawer fell to the floor with a clatter.

'I still have to live here, you know,' Marcus said, his voice muffled against Wrench's skin. 'I have neighbours. And it's night.'

Wrench leaned out of the bed, secured by Marcus's hands holding him at the hips, and went through the contents of the drawer until he found the tube. 'Tada!' he said, holding it out.

Marcus grinned up at him and snatched it out of his hand. 'Give that here. Before you take the rest of my place apart.'

Wrench wanted to keep looking at Marcus, but when a moist finger slipped into him he couldn't. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying how Marcus methodically pushed the lubricant inside him. The hand left him then, replaced by the blunt pressure of Marcus's cock, also slickened. He breathed out and lowered himself onto him in a smooth motion. Marcus rolled his hips gently, holding Wrench by his sides. 'Look at me,' he said softly, and Wrench obliged him. Their eyes met as he rode him slowly and with relish. 'You're so beautiful, Wrench, you have no idea.'

Wrench felt heat crawling up his neck. 'You should get your eyes checked out.'

'You should stop looking through that lens of neglect.' Marcus pulled him down to him and flipped them over. 'You're a handsome guy. Ask Sitara if you don't believe me. That I love you has nothing to do with it. And you matter, Wrench. And fuck, this feels good.'

Wrench smiled and hooked his legs behind Marcus's ass. 'Different?'

'Yes. But mostly because …' Marcus kissed him, his lips first, then his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose. 'Because I see you. That's … oh, God, Wrench, I'm gonna nut soon.'

With Marcus so close that his belly massaged Wrench's cock, he would definitely not last long, either. Also there was something different between them, something that indeed had more to do with the absence of the mask than that of a condom, and it was tugging at his insides in every way imaginable. Wrench slung his arms around Marcus, too. He was probably leaving him a lot less room than he wanted, but he needed to be closer, closer, wanted to melt into him. The angle at which Marcus was pushing into his body was perfect and so was everything and Wrench was moving against him with so much appetite that he drew a chuckle from Marcus.

'Like that dick?'

'That. And maaaybe the rest of you, too.' The words were more gasped than spoken, making Marcus laugh, eyes dancing with joy in the vague light. He felt him thrust into him, deep, so deep, and wiggle his hips while he was buried in Wrench. A sound he would normally find embarrassing escaped Wrench and he dug his fingers into Marcus's shoulders. 'Fuck, yes. Give it, Marcus. I'm close.'

'Inside you? That okay?'

'Yeah. C'mon, M.'

Marcus somehow managed to keep his eyes open, staring down at Wrench as if he feared he'd vanish if he so much as blinked. His thrusts lost their rhythm until he stilled inside him, pulsing his seed into the other man's gut. 'Fuck. Fuck, Wrench, you're so good.'

'Yeah. I know, I'm a god in bed.' He squeezed, and now Marcus's eyes did close with a sharp intake of breath.

'Ah, point taken.' He slid out, making Wrench hiss, and bent down to take him into his mouth. The fingers of one hand slipped into his hole, curling, touching _right_ _there_ , the others cradled his balls. His eyes were looking up, locking their gazes again, and now it was Wrench who couldn't look away, who watched himself vanishing between those beautiful lips, watched the wide, brown eyes while a talented tongue swirled around his tip.

When Marcus hummed around him, it was too much, too deep, too close, and Wrench came with a groan before he could offer so much as a warning. Marcus didn't mind, he never did, drank from him and kept licking gently und Wrench slowly came back to the world. 'Damn you, Marcus, I'm going to burst a vessel one day.'

Laughing, Marcus settled next to him again, his head on Wrench's shoulder. 'Promise me something?'

'Hmmm.'

'Next time something happens, you come to me. To us. You're not alone.'

'Yeah. Figured that out.' He looked at the man he loved, at the eyebrows that were raised in the middle. 'Stop worrying, M. I promise. I'm not going to break your heart. I plan to get old, so you're not getting rid of me any time soon.'

Marcus spoke again when Wrench was almost asleep. 'What is that, anyway?'

Wrench opened one eye and watched Marcus play with his pendant on a leather band. He usually kept it under his clothes. 'Hammer.'

Marcus was silent for so long that Wrench thought he'd fallen asleep. Then – 'That doesn't look like a hammer. At all. It looks like a wonky, upside down capital letter T.'

Wrench dedicated one moment to mourn for this night's sleep. 'This is a symbol of the one good thing I got from my father. You see, he was just weak. My mother was a software developer for Blume and an alcoholic. She had friends that kept her in that position when she was a complete waste of space. She was never a gentle being, but eventually, she became paranoid and cruel. To him and to me. He was co-dependent and I was the reason for everything that was wrong with her life. He, though … he gave me his faith. And this is its symbol. Thor's hammer.' He turned to his side and looked at Marcus, who was still holding his pendant in one hand. 'So, am I going to hell in your book? For being a heathen?'

'Must have made sense to you, to join a group called the Sons of Ragnarok, then.'

'Not at all, actually. I'm not a Rokkatru, so Ragnarok isn't something to strive for. Honestly, though, I didn't give a shit about their name. And the few heathens in there are the kind most of us would gladly beat to death with a wet towel. We've got to fight misappropriation of our symbols from the far right on a daily basis. Fucking bastards.'

'I think I learned more about you tonight than in the two years that I've known you.' Marcus shrugged with the shoulder he wasn't lying on. 'I'm not a religious person, Wrench. I don't _get_ religion. But if it floats your boat …'

'It helped me survive. I can't tell you if the gods are real the way I think they are. But believing in them gave me the strength I needed. To walk away from the abuse, take my life into my own hands. This isn't like Christianity where you fall on your knees and pray for something better after you're dead. We do what needs doing to live the best way we can. Right now, not after we're dead.'

'Sounds reasonable enough, as far as religions go. But if you do go to hell, you'll own the place.'

Wrench snorted. He took Marcus's hand and intertwined their fingers. Their contrasting colours made a beautiful image. Wrench kissed the brown fingers between his white ones. 'Yeah. I'm hoping to end up in Folkvang, though.'

'Now you're just making up words.'

'Nope. But. I'd prefer not to give you the 101 in heathenry right now. I'd like to get some sleep at least.'

'All right. We can sleep in, Wrench. Tomorrow we'll come up with a plan and fix this. Together. All of us. Good night, my man.'

Wrench smiled. 'G'night.' He did fall asleep now, curled against Marcus's chest with one arm around him. He slept like a rock.


	5. Наша сила буде з ними

_((Chapter heading is a line from the song_ Старець _by the band_ _Чур_ _(read: /Chur/). The song title is read /_ Starets' _/ and means_ Old Man _. The chapter heading reads /_ Nasha syla bude z nymy _/ and means_ Our strength will be with them _. The illegible language is Ukrainian. It happens.))_

* * *

 _5._ _Наша сила буде з ними_

The restless energy that Wrench was exuding was infectious. That was very visible in Josh, who had shrunken into himself until Sitara had put her foot down and steered the agitated man into a chair. Marcus grasped his hand and Wrench clung on as if for dear life. 'What do you want to do?' Sitara asked. 'They were fucking with you, so it's your call.'

'What I want,' Wrench said, his voice rough, 'is to fucking hurt them.'

'Then don't kill them,' Marcus said. He got a look of sheer shock from Wrench. 'Hear me out on this. 'You just kill them, it's not going to be enough. Trust me.'

'You know what?' Wrench let go of his hand and started pacing again, walking back and forth just once before halting in front of Marcus and jabbing a finger at him. 'When the Bratva had you, I had to be the one that does them. I just had to. So. Do you have a plan for them?'

Marcus grinned at him. 'Nice of you to offer. And yes. But vague. We can't hope to kill all of the Sons of Ragnarok. They're just too large a movement.'

'Don't call them that.' Josh was glaring at the floor. 'That makes them sound legitimate. They're a terrorist organisation. Don't call them a movement.'

'Got a point there. Anyway. The advantage here is, we got someone who knows these fuckers. You tell us, Wrench, where would it hurt them most?'

'Where else? Betrayal.' He shrugged. 'They're so fucking self-righteous. They have guessed that they can't trust me, but one of them still does. She's kind of a local leader. They have groups, and my group was run by her. They're the only ones who know who I am and that I am here. They need to either die or be too intimidated to fuck with us. Intimidating them isn't as easy as it is with your average fuckwit.'

'You think it's possible?'

'Huh.'

'That was a real helpful answer, Wrench. Thanks a lot.'

'Shut up.' Wrench held out a hand. 'I'm thinking.' He let himself fall back in the chair again. 'If I walk up to their place I'm not walking out again. That they let me go this time was just because they were dead certain that you lot would never allow me to come back.'

'You reckon they know that we did?'

'I wouldn't dare assume otherwise. And if they got wind of anything that happened between yesterday and now, I'm dead. I don't want that.' He frowned. 'Here's the thing. They – and with that I mean my group in particular – have a bunch of local politicians that cover for them.'

'Yeah.' Sitara made a face. 'I can see the alt-right supporting them wreaking havoc.'

'Exactly. Them and at least one high ranking member of the Topeka Enlightenment Church.'

Marcus made a retching sound. 'Yeah. Because we absolutely needed those in San Francisco.'

'The few times they had the nerve to shop up here, they didn't get all that warm a welcome,' Sitara said. 'I remember that I went to a protest against them ages ago. It was brilliant, lots of nonsense signs and all the ridicule they deserve.'

'Yes. And they aren't a big thing here. But there are a few representatives that are meant to sneak their homophobic and anti-Semitic trash into our society.'

'They aren't very successful,' Josh said. 'One of them was Robert Darndale.'

'Whoa, whoa, I don't think I'm following,' Marcus said. 'Who's that and why is he relevant?'

'He killed himself two years ago.' Sitara shrugged. 'Couldn't take the public backlash after he said the shooting in the Orlando nightclub was a cleansing. And honestly, that was the last time I heard anything about the TopEC. Here, at least.'

Wrench nodded furiously. 'That's it, though. They're still here, and they keep their silence. They work with the Sons of Ragnarok among other white trash. And the Sons have their names. Theirs and those on the alt-right.'

'So your plan is to get your hands on their names and publish them.'

'Not necessarily. I want to cut them off from each other. If we grab their data we can cut their ties with their most powerful and most affluent supporters. Simply by blackmailing both sides.'

'So basically, all we have to do is hack them, and …' Marcus fell silent when Wrench shook his head fiercely.

'No. No, we can't. You see, I was the one handling their data. And I knew that if you ever got your hands on that, there would be hell to pay. That stuff is on paper. Bank statements, signatures, contracts. It's complex and a lot.'

'You're kidding.'

'Nope.'

'And is that hard evidence? Usable?'

'Very. The bank statements are the true jackpot. They weren't all that cautious on either side of their deals.'

'And how do you figure we'll get that stuff?'

Wrench swallowed. 'I need to go back in. And they need to be convinced. Which is … well. I'll need your help. I got an idea. But I need all of you for that.'

'Whatever you need. Give them hell.'

Josh finally looked up. 'But be careful. They will not hesitate to hurt you.'

Marcus squeezed his shoulder. 'Yeah man. Come back home to me.'

'That's the problem with knowing there are people who need me in one piece. I can't go full Byronic hero out of control mode. So yeah. I'll be safe.'


	6. Love in Theory and Practice

_((Chapter heading is from the song_ Katherine Wheel _by HIM.))_

* * *

 _6\. Love in Theory and Practice_

It took them a week. A week in which Wrench fixed his mask for one last thing he needed to do – simply because it wasn't a good idea to get his face involved in their plan. Other than that he felt better every day, got used to the fact that the others could see him. They didn't flinch, they didn't stare, they didn't seem to be repulsed. Josh had asked if it was a scar or a birth mark and Wrench had answered that it was a burn mark. He hadn't offered more details and Josh hadn't pried, perhaps because Sitara had been standing behind Wrench gesturing to him to shut up.

The central part of their plan was so good that Wrench found himself unable to watch the final result. A small video recorded and heavily edited by Sitara. It looked like it came from a particular camera in a particular parking lot and showed Wrench driving Marcus and Josh there, them getting out of the car, and Wrench pulling a gun on them both; shooting them in the legs and yelling slurs about black people and Jews; finally, executing them both by shooting them in the neck at point blank range. Josh and Marcus's non-existent acting talent was compensated by Sitara's editing skills. It looked real, grainy and flickering and the sound was vague at best.

Placing that video would be easy. Wrench had chosen the location because he knew that one of the guardsmen was one of the Sons of Ragnarok. He was also a member of DedSec and spying on the gang for them. All he had to do was bring the fake video to Britt and Wrench knew she'd come calling.

Some time after he'd joined DedSec, Wrench had stopped going to the small apartment he rented. He mostly slept in the hackerspace or sometimes his garage. When he'd started to realise that he was falling head over heels in love with Marcus, he had occasionally gone home just to have a place where he could evade the man he was drawn to in a way that frightened him. He'd been so certain that Marcus would never see him, never want him and had tried to isolate himself from him. Without much success, thank the gods. He had told Sitara about the apartment once when he was drunk. Other than that, it was a well-kept secret except to the gang. And here it was they came to find him.

Wrench pretended to be confused and angry. Well. He didn't need to pretend to be angry when Britt congratulated him on ridding the world of two useless sub-human creatures. Wrench wanted nothing more than to go home to those people and hug them. Maybe not Josh. He wouldn't appreciate it. Even Britt calling him Greg, as he'd introduced himself to her and the others way back when, made him mad. Everything about them did.

Calm. He had to keep calm. So he let them bring him to the warehouse they used as their quarters. He let Britt show the fucking video to those that had doubted Wrench's loyalty. He let himself be celebrated and expressed regret that the infiltration had ultimately failed because the members of DedSec were such a paranoid bunch they'd never trusted him enough – except for the two fools who had ultimately become his victims.

Wrench had spent the evening pretending to get drunk while pouring his booze into the hydroculture. The poor plants were doomed for sure. He collapsed on a couch and waited for the rest to either pass out drunk for real or leave them. When the darkness was complete, Wrench used a drone he'd brought to find that yes, everything was still where it had been and it wasn't locked away. Britt's car was standing just outside – a large SUV with a rear load bed. Getting the stuff out might be difficult, but at least eh had a means to transport it.

Slowly, cautiously, Wrench got on his feet. The room was filled with snoring. He picked his path to the office that had once been his with care. Every time he heard some irregularity in the snores he was ready to make a break for … wherever. He intended to fulfil his plan, but mostly, he wanted to do what he had promised: Come home to Marcus.

On his way, Wrench stopped briefly by the hydroponics and opened the closet underneath. He found what he looked for and pocketed it quickly.

The young man reached the door unchallenged. Once he was in the office, he was a bit calmer. Sorting through the countless scraps of paper was impossible, so he just checked the boxes quickly: The newer ones he had to take with him. Two should be enough. He smiled vaguely. If DedSec didn't have the rest, the Sons shouldn't have it either. He wouldn't be Wrench if he had nothing on him that could take care of whatever remained in the room.

The drone did some more scouting. This time, it flew out of the window and steered a small forklift to it. The noise it made should wake up a drugged elephant, and Wrench spent at least ten minutes sitting with a stun gun pointed at the door. Nothing happened.

Wired and anxious, Wrench hoisted the two boxes out onto the forklift. He leaned out of the window and wondered if he shouldn't take the direct path, too. The moment he decided that this wasn't exactly wise, he heard the door behind him open and close and he froze. He'd never make it out safely if he flung himself out. He'd be dead before he hit the ground. 'I suggest you come back in and tell me what this is going to be.' Britt's voice was only a little slurred.

Wrench obeyed. He shrugged. 'Just wanted to check if the place is actually safe. That forklift could be used by someone to break in.'

'Or to break out?'

'Why should I? Or am I a prisoner?'

'No, but …' Wrench swore inwardly when Britt's gaze settled on where there were two boxes missing. 'What the hell are you doing?'

Wrench made his decision in a split second. He lunged, making a grab for Britt. Her mouth opened for a scream, but before a sound came out his fist collided with her throat. Hard. He stared as she grasped at her neck, trying and failing to breathe. Wrench backed away. 'Shit. That wasn't what I'd planned.' He swallowed and chanced a look outside the door. 'Looks like the rest really is out. I'm going to send a message later. In case you die. Are you dying?' He waited for a few seconds. 'Your gurgling isn't very precise. Thing is, Marcus and Josh, they're fine. And I will take evidence of your connections to powerful and dangerous individuals with me. Those individuals, they won't protect you anymore. There'll be hell to pay once we tell them … are you even listening?' Britt had collapsed and wasn't moving. Wrench tapped her with his foot. No reaction. 'Well. This makes for interesting options.'


	7. No War, No Hate, No Past

_((The words of the chapter heading are a line from the song_ High Speed Train _by R.E.M.))_

 _7\. No War, No Hate, No Past_

 _Last night a fire broke out in a warehouse belonging to Christopher Tarling, a member of the Board of Supervisors. There were several casualties, including the deaths of two as of yet unidentified individuals and five highly intoxicated men have sustained injuries. Both and the man and the woman who perished are unrecognisable due to the high temperature of the fire. Investigators only managed to enter the building two hours ago and are now trying to determine which combustive agent was used to set the fire. An accident can be ruled out. Christopher Tarling himself will have to answer several questions. The injured people, it seems, are all members of the Sons of Ragnarok and have used the warehouse as their quarters. Tarling was unavailable for commentary to WKZ._

'Fuck them bloody.' Sitara shook her head. 'Shame that they didn't all burn to ashes for what they did.' She turned away from the television, eyes on fire. 'Are you … are you sure you're all right, Wrench? You're limping quite badly.'

'What an indiscreet question. Perhaps Marcus just got carried away welcoming me back.'

Marcus punched him. Very gently. 'Hey.'

Wrench sighed and threw an arm around the man next to him. 'Fine, fine. I jumped out of a window and I didn't have much time if I didn't want to stand in the radius of the explosion. So I sprained my ankle. Not fun, not dangerous either.'

'What happens now?'

'Well. We filter through what we have. Tarling is a good start, I knew he was one of the people we could put pressure on, but I didn't know that the warehouse was his. Thing is, the woman who died was the most likely one to come after me for revenge. The rest are much less insane. I didn't exactly plan to kill her but … well. I'd lie if I said I regret it. She would have remained a threat.'

'Lucky that she was too drunk to escape,' Sitara said.

'Yeah, about that.' Wrench massaged the bridge of his nose. 'She was possibly already dead when the fire started. Definitely unconscious and she would have needed medical attention real quick.'

'You shot her? Not good, they can find that out.'

'I did not. I punched her in the throat. You know, I didn't even aim. I always thought that kind of stuff only works in movies.'

'It is unlikely that she was dead,' Josh said. 'She probably just passed out. You must have hit her hard.'

'I did.' Wrench shuddered. 'I … I don't like killing people, contrary to popular belief and I hope I won't have to do it again. But this … this one I couldn't avoid if I wanted to have peace.' He looked at Marcus. 'You were right, though. It wasn't satisfying.'

Marcus leaned closer and kissed Wrench's temple. 'It's over, Wrench. You're free.'

'Mostly.' Enjoying the closeness of the man beside him, Wrench reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced a small plastic bag. 'And I managed to grab the right stuff to celebrate.' He tossed the bag to Sitara, who caught it deftly and stared at him in disbelief.

'You were in a life-threatening situation and the first thing you thought of was stealing their weed?'

Wrench shrugged. 'I fully intended to survive, and survivors need to celebrate. So, how about you get your rolling paper and we light a little more of their stuff on fire?'


End file.
